


My Name Is Tom

by VanillaGhost



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artificial Intelligence, Alternate Universe - Future, M/M, Robot AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7753057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanillaGhost/pseuds/VanillaGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry and his friends rescue an android from being discarded, they soon realize their mistake when 'Tom' turns from being helpful to becoming a real threat in their lives. With his quest for knowledge and his disturbing attachment to Harry increasing, they must find out a way to stop him before anyone else is hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. //f1rst_st3ps.mkv

**Author's Note:**

> Now featuring gorgeous artwork from the wonderfully talented [Vertibird](http://vertibird.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Not gonna lie, I started writing this about five days before the rough draft deadline, so if it looks 'quick and dirty', well... (And first time writing something classified as a 'short story'! Woo!).

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were late and not even the lightning speed of the London underground could help them get to work on time. Just as the train doors were closing, they exploded through and fell into a messy heap on the only seats available. Ron and Hermione sat on one side while Harry sat on the other next to a rather large man reading the news on his tablet and munching messily on a peach. The trio of friends huffed and plucked at their suddenly too-warm clothing but were relieved to finally be on their way.

As the train plunged through the pitch black tunnels, Hermione piped up.

“How are feeling today, Harry?”

Harry felt a flicker of irritation and grunted, “I’m fine.”

“You look tired.”

Harry chose not to answer and turned to face the windows where he could see the reflection of his friends exchanging worried looks. His own reflection looked pale and worn. He knew they meant well but it was hard to forget when they brought it up all the time. And Harry just wanted to forget.

There was another flurry of activity when the train came to their stop. Another burst of speed and a fumble up the stairs onto the busy streets of 4016 London. As soon as they waded their way through the throngs of people towards the Facility, they split ways just as the doors slid open. Immediately the atmosphere was different – Harry could never get used to it and doubted Ron ever would. Hermione seemed to fit right at home though.

The Facility was a cool, white and steel building with floor to ceiling glass windows. Large screens hung high and played some new advertisement on what projects were being undergone in the labs hidden among it’s maze of numerous floors that stretched into the slate grey English sky.

“See you two later, okay?” Hermione called as she thrust on her lab coat and looped an identification badge around her neck. She zipped off to a corner of the immense ground floor where rows of shiny steel elevators stood admitting people. Ron and Harry bolted for the security staff locker rooms. As soon as they got in, they quickly stowed their bags and sweaters before clipping their ID tags to their uniform pockets.

“Right,” said Ron. “Now here’s to hoping the boss hasn’t seen us come in late.”

Harry raised a dubious brow at that but the two hurried out toward the front desks any way.

They had not gone five steps through the halls before their supervisor was seen strolling down from the opposite end.

Ron made a distressed sound. “Is it too late to hope he hasn’t seen us?”

“Yes,” Harry hissed and the two bravely kept walking until Moody stopped in front them.

“Ah, if it isn’t my two favourite security staff,” Moody said. “Late for work again, I see?”

“No, sir!” Harry said.

“We were just – er – “ Ron started when Harry cut in.

“We were making a round of the ground floors.” 

Ron nodded vigorously.

“Just, you know, covering all the bases.”

Their supervisor gave them a flat look over his coffee cup before heading into his office. “What would we ever do without the watchful eyes of you two, eh?” He closed the door with a click and Ron and Harry visibly relaxed before heading off to the monitor room.

“Covering all the bases?” Ron said.

“At least I came up with something, Mr _Um-Uh-Ehh_ …”

Ron gave Harry a light punch to the shoulder on the way to their assigned duty for the day.

* * *

CCTV duty was possibly the worst part of the job. Not three hours and a long coffee break in between, Ron was slouched on the chair with his feet up on the console, chocolate wrappers strewn about him. Harry meanwhile dozed with his arms pillowing his head on the console. He always wondered why security had to get up so early for such a menial task. They might as well use this time to sleep in their own beds, he thought sourly.

A loud shriek pierced through the room, jarring the two into abrupt alertness. When they realized the source of the horrible sound was Ron’s mobile, they both relaxed.

“Christ!” Ron said breathlessly.

“Answer it, will you?”

“I am, I am!”

Harry groaned as the noise continued to pierce through his half-sleep. It cut off as soon as Ron finally managed to answer it. “Hullo?”

Harry listened in as a small voice jabbered away on the other end.

“Okay – Hold on, hold on – _You what_?”

A pause.

“Bloody hell, are you serious?”

Harry sat up and turned to his friend with a curious look. Ron met his eyes with wide blue ones, mouth gaping slightly with chocolate smearing the corners.

“Alright, relax. Just calm down, we’ll be there right now.”

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“Hermione,” Ron said and stopped as if he didn’t know how to say the next words. “I think she’s gone mad.”

* * *

As they went up in the lift, Ron tried to explain. “I don’t know mate, she wasn’t making a lot of sense. All I got was that she nicked something from one of the sealed off departments.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “You mean the ones not even we’re allowed to access?”

Ron nodded. “Yep. And she sounded… you know.”

“Harassed?”

“And snippy,” Ron added grimly. “More than usual.”

Harry’s mouth made a downward slant.

“Exactly,” Ron said.

The lift finally arrived on the 30th level, the doors sliding silently open to reveal a near-deserted floor. It was still under construction and hardly anyone was up here as none of the rooms were yet in use. Ron and Harry rushed through the maze of corridors to where Hermione met them in one near the back of the building. Her eyes were shifty and she was fidgeting. As soon as they came near, she clamped down on their arms and leaned in to hiss lowly, “Come with me. Don’t ask questions.”

“Now that’s exciting,” Ron said.

“Very mysterious,” Harry added.

“Shut it, I’m serious,” Hermione snapped and pulled them down another few long corridors until they stopped at room number 117. Hermione pulled them inside and slammed the door closed. Their eyes took a moment to adjust as the room was dark and unlit. The first thing that came into view was the various shapes of scientific equipment all covered in sheets of thick plastic. But then Ron wailed, “Oh God, Hermione’s finally killed someone!” and Harry’s mouth opened in a gape or to say something at the sight of a very human-shaped thing slumped against the far wall until Hermione gave them both a ferocious glare. She shushed Ron and pulled back the plastic covering. Both Ron and Harry leapt back with a fright.

“What the bloody hell is that thing!” Ron said at the same time Harry asked, “Is that an actual human?”

Hermione looked very irritated by this point. “Of _course_ it’s not a real human! Honestly, haven’t you two seen an android before?”

“My foot it is! Have you ever seen an android, Hermione? They _do not_ look like that.”

Harry nodded. “That looks like a … Like a really, really, real…”

“Well, good! Because it’s a new model, and part of a _classified project_ to do with artificial intelligence _,_  if you must know. But it’s defective somehow and they’re throwing it away so I couldn’t just let it be destroyed.“

“Put it back,” Ron said. “Put it back now, Hermione, you know we can’t – that’s – that’s stealing. You hate stealing!”

“He’s right, you know,” Harry confirmed. “We’d lose our jobs and so would you.”

“I know that! But if it’s going to be thrown away – all those hours spent looking at parts and pouring over algorithms… “ Hermione broke off with a thick swallow. She looked desperate and then like she was about to cry. Harry was the first to give in. He sighed and crouched next to Hermione, careful not to look directly at the eerie man-sized puppet. “Is it that important to you?” he asked.

Hermione sniffed and wiped the back of her lab coat sleeve on her nose. “More than you can imagine,” she mumbled and heaved a miserable sigh.

Harry looked back at Ron who wore a pained expression. Then his shoulder lifted in a helpless shrug and Harry turned back to Hermione. “Then let’s get this thing out of here.”

Hermione lit up at the words like Harry had just given her a precious gift.

* * *

The trio quickly found themselves in a dilemma. They discovered quite soon that one could not just march a stolen android out through the front door; They needed a plan.

“Anyone got any ideas?” Harry asked hopefully. Hermione frowned in a way which said she was in deep thought.

Ron was wearing a similar expression, but rather meant that he was giving it his best shot when really he couldn’t think of anything either.

Suddenly Harry had an idea. By the time he had formulated a half-plan, he was grinning. Hermione said, “What? What is it?”

“I think I’ve got our way out of here.”

“Well, don’t keep us in the dark,” Ron said, then looked around. “Literally.”

“There’s a droid who works in the kitchens. I think he can help us.”

Ron frowned. “He?”

“The kitchens?” Hermione asked.

Harry flushed but pushed on. “Er – Yeah, his name’s Dobby. He can probably get us through the kitchen exit if we ask him.”

Ron stared at his friend like he was seeing him for the first time. Then he shrugged his shoulder and said, “Alright, go on then. Call up your robot friend.”  
Harry gave him a black look though it only earned him muffled snickers.

Harry unhooked the little radio from his utility belt and searched for the correct channel. Pressing the button, he called in, “Dobby?”

There was a slight delay but then the radio crackled to life.

“Mr Harry Potter, sir!”

Harry turned his back on the looks his friends were giving each other to talk closely into the radio. “Look, we need your help.”

“Harry Potter is needing some assistance?”

“Yes, can you meet us in room 117 on the 30th floor? And bring a serving trolley with you.”

* * *

Within five minutes, a little silver droid crashed through the door of the room. Although the three friends were expecting it, each one jumped when it happened. But Harry was the first to calm down enough to go over to help the little thing pull the trolley into the room. When the droid turned round, it’s serial number was stamped in big block letters across the side of it’s head: D013-E.

“Why is sir and friends in this room? It is not in use,” It chirped.

Harry gave the droid a look he was sure it wouldn’t understand as they started to load the plastic-wrapped dismembered parts onto the trolley.

“Dobby, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, sir.”

“I need you to tell no one that we were here today, alright? It’s important that you don’t say anything about what we’re doing.”

“Harry, mate, can’t you just delete the last hour from his memory or something?” Ron said.

Harry turned to see Hermione was already glaring at their friend. “He might not be human but droids deserve respect just as much as we do, you know. The proof of it is in their personalities!”

Ron rolled his eyes and mumbled, “Alright, alright. I’m sorry I said anything.”

Harry gave him a conciliatory smile though he agreed with Hermione on this. Dobby wasn’t like most robots. He couldn’t explain why but he suspected that Dobby might be closer to having what you would call ‘emotions’ than anyone knew. Even though Harry knew it was logically impossible.

The droid was taking a long moment to think though, which gave Harry pause. Did he understand what they were asking?

But then its little blinking lights whirred to life again, aerials perking up.

“I do not understand, sir, but I will not be telling anyone that you is being here today.”

The three simultaneously sighed in relief.

“Thanks, Dobby.”

* * * 

Their apartment was a compact, structured building of many floors facing another large grey apartment building with many floors. The only real colour within miles of the area seemed to be inside the flat where the trio of friends tried their best to make it feel homely. There were three rooms, all identical in layout – square little spaces with a single large circular window covering up the far end of it – and were reflections of themselves in a way. Ron’s and Harry’s seemed to be in some variation of a mess while Hermione’s was filled with books, equipment, wires and parts that she insisted were all organized and cleanly put away. The boys secretly disagreed and found it to be just as messy as their own rooms, just in her own way.

When the three friends managed to get the android back to their apartment, they suddenly found they didn’t know what to do with it. After a lot of arguing they decided it was best to leave it out in the living room where it could sit in a chair. They had just put it in the agreed spot when Hermione immediately got to work on it, plugging and screwing parts back together until it was whole again.  
  
Other than that, life for the trio went back to normal. The only reminder of their little adventure being the lifeless man that sat in their living room. Each day they come back from work, Harry and Ron found the android was more and more put together until all that was left was to find out what malfunctioned. For a long time Hermione could not seem to figure it out because it seemed as if everything should be functioning perfectly. All the circuitry and synthetic organs inside it were in working order. With a lot of goading from the two boys who were impatient for something to happen, Hermione decided there was nothing for it and turned it on.

Nothing happened.

“That was anticlimactic,” Ron said as they all stood gathered round the robot.

“I think it needs to charge,” Hermione replied and knelt down to plug one end of a wire into the back of it’s neck while the other end went into the wall next to the chair.

* * * 

The next morning Harry was the first to wake after a fit of coughing which kept him up most of the night. He shuffled into the kitchen and tiredly poured himself a bowl of cereal when his eyes strayed over to the android in the corner.

It just sat there, perfectly still like a waxwork figure. The sculpted features on it's face looked so soft... As if it had real skin. Harry wondered over with his bowl and munched while he stared. His fingers itched and he reached out to stroke the smooth ‘skin’ of it’s cheek when –

Icy blue eyes flickered open.

Harry pulled back his hand as if burned and his cereal bowl clattered noisily to the ground. The robotic man only stared at him, a look of open curiosity on it's unnaturally handsome face as Harry's heart beat hard in his chest. 

The first thought that came to mind was doubt. It seemed impossible this thing was not sentient.

 


	2. //_fr4ctur3_.avi

Week One                                                                                                                         

The thing kept staring at him. Should he say something? Would it understand?

Harry inwardly readied himself, straightened and stepped forward. It was just a robot, after all. Robots weren’t dangerous – they were machinery. Harry waved his hand in front of the robot and the blue eyes followed the movement before settling on him once more. Harry swallowed before speaking loudly and clearly to see if the thing was working.

“Um, hello?”

Nothing but a blank stare greeted him. Harry blew out a breath and went to get a chair from the kitchen to sit on. Once he was sat in front of it again, he cleared his throat and tried again.

“My name is Harry Potter.”

“Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle.”

Harry jumped when the thing answered him. He stared, breathless and exhilarated. “You have a name?”

The thing looked at him a moment more before answering. “Of course. Why should I not have a name?”

The voice was smooth and flawless. Harry found it quite mesmerizing.

“Um… Yeah, no – There’s no reason,” Harry mumbled. “Who, um, who named you that?”

The robot blinked as if this were a strange or complicated question. “I did.”

Harry frowned. “You named yourself?”

“Yes.”

Harry leaned back, astonished. “Okay.”

He found himself taking in the android's appearance again; The grey-ish palor of it's skin which was not immediately noticeable unless you were this close. Harry supposed it was more obvious in the fingers - The tips and nails were immaculately manicured. Almost too perfect in their proportion and a little stiff like they belonged on a mannequin instead of a person. But 'Tom' was not a person... not really.

Harry thought of Hermione just then and how she would be having a fit over this. He leapt out of his chair and skidded over to the hall that led to their bedrooms when he remembered the knocked over cereal bowl. He stopped and turned to ask, “Would you… Er – do you eat?”

“No, I do not.”

Harry felt his cheeks burn. “Right, I don’t know why I asked that. Stupid question.”

The robot continued to look at him vacantly as if waiting patiently for Harry to stop rambling to himself. All of a sudden, it stood up – and then wobbled. Before it could teeter onto the floor, Harry swooped in and held him up with hands placed firmly on a solid chest. The robot – _Tom_ – looked down at him.

“It appears my leg is not in the correct position. I must fix it,” It said.

Harry stared up at Tom. This close, he was really quite beautiful and he wondered why anyone would make a robot like this. The skin around it's eyes was incredibly smooth and lacked any liquid or discolouration. Harry would bet that crying was not something Tom was programmed to do, and not only because he could not feel anything either.

“Um, yeah,” Harry said. “Let me just sit you on the couch or something, okay?”

'Tom' did not answer so Harry took that as a yes and helped him to the sofa where he sat down and watched the android dislodge and twist his right knee joint. Harry suppressed a shudder and said, “I’m going to go call my friend. I think she can help you.”

Tom continued to just stare at him as he left.

* * *

The robot was still sitting frozen in place when they all came rushing in. Blue eyes blinked slowly as they all gathered round him with varying degrees of amazement on their faces. Hermione in particular looked like she had just seen the face of God, especially after Harry mentioned that the android had given himself a name.

“This is ground-breaking! Do you understand how incredibly unheard of this is? It should be impossible!”

“I can’t tell if you’re happy or – “ Ron started when Hermione cut him off with a shrill, “Happy? I’m marvelous! Oh, if only I could take this to the department. I’m sure if I could examine it more closely, and if I just had the right equipment – “

“Why don’t you examine it here?” Harry proposed.

“What? In the flat?” Hermione asked.

“Ugh, please no. It’s creepy enough as it is – Now it’s _alive_ I don’t fancy the thing walking about watching us,” Ron said.

Hermione’s mouth opened and closed like a fish but within her eyes a light was being lit. She began muttering to herself. The two boys exchanged looks as they shuffled into the kitchen. Ron started on his own breakfast while Harry made them all cups of tea. They could hear Hermione already starting to chatter into her tablet in the living room.

“Work entry – No, delete. – Private journal, log number one. Subject has been switched on and appears to be functioning normally although further tests will have to be undergone.”

Harry popped in to hand Hermione her tea. She chatted amiably with the robot, prodding and poking it’s different parts while asking how it functioned. As soon as Harry stepped foot into the room though, Tom’s eyes turned on him and he stopped answering Hermione. He appeared to be completely preoccupied with what Harry was doing.

“Um – here you are, ‘Mione,” Harry said and gave her the steaming mug.  

“You are called Hermione,” The android said slowly. “And yet Harry calls you by a different name.”

“Oh – Yes, it’s a nickname, I suppose.”

The android seemed to try absorb this. “A nickname.”

Harry exchanged a look with Hermione. Was this what was wrong with the robot? Did his ability to absorb knowledge stop after a point?

When Ron came in, Tom’s eyes flickered to him and Harry swore he could see a shadow pass over his stone-like features. 

Hermione seemed to have caught the expression as well. “Do you not like Ron?” she asked.

Ron gawked at them as if he had been accused of a horrible crime. Tom turned to her. “I have no preference over people, Hermione. That is not in my programming.”  
Hermione’s lips pursed like Tom were a particularly difficult puzzle. To the others, it was evident Tom appreciated Ron’s presence the least. But for what reason, no one knew yet.  

* * *

When they were all in bed later that night, Harry got up after having a bit of trouble with his chest. He quietly slipped into the living room and almost forgot who occupied it now. Tom sat like a statue in his chair, staring straight ahead with his customary blank expression. When he saw Harry come in, he stood up.

“Are you not sleeping well, Harry?”

“Not really,” Harry admitted warily. “Aren’t you supposed to be charging or something?”

“I am sufficiently charged for the next 48 hours.”

Without much to say about that, Harry replied with an “Ah.” Before going over to lay on the couch. He flung an arm over his eyes and remained like that for the next few minutes.

“Would you like to turn on the television?”

“No.”

“Would you like some tea?”

Harry grunted in the negative and Tom fell silent. Harry thought he finally got what he wanted but after a few more minutes of silence it became stifling.

“Tom?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“About Ron…” Harry paused and thought about how to word his theory. But then he remembered he was talking to a robot and was just being silly. He forged on: “Was it because of how he talked about you earlier?”

When no answer came, Harry pushed himself up onto his elbows to look at Tom.

The android was giving him that unnerving stare again. But it was taking him a while to answer.

“I am not programmed to have a preference over humans.”

Harry sighed, half-expecting another answer like that. He could not shake the feeling though; That Tom was somehow… more than he seemed.  

* * *

Harry told Hermione about what happened the next morning, of course. Though she was the first to bring up the subject after he mentioned he couldn’t sleep. As soon as he told her, she was at her voice logs again.

“The subject appears to have developed what I can only classify as something resembling genuine human emotions while his intelligence continues to grow at an unusual rate. But what is still most remarkable is how the subject has managed to name himself. There is a definite connection, I’m certain of it.”

This continued for most days, and especially when Harry found that he had to stay home more and more. His friends would come home and usually check on him, but Harry felt it was mostly to gossip about what the android had been up to most of the day. Harry was glad to have his mind off it, and gave them all something to talk about other than his increasing time spent in the flat. Though very occasionally Harry could not be bothered with anything, and on those days Ron and Hermione would leave him in peace. Even Tom seemed to refrain from pestering him too much and let them all know he found this behavior strange.

On the better days, Hermione would usually first listen to what Harry had to report about the android and what he did that day (much to Harry’s growing exasperation) before performing her own examinations of ‘Tom’ herself. Harry and Ron heard her jabbering away into her video logs at the kitchen table because it ‘has more space for my work’ which essentially meant that it was big enough to hold the huge mess of papers, tablets and gadgets that were part of Hermione’s work. She sat at the chair now while Harry and Ron were in the living room.

“Log number seven. Series AB-L, or rather 'Tom', as the subject has named themself, is an anomaly which continues to... perplex.”

Ron and Harry shared a snigger at the choice of word. They both knew Hermione had surpassed ‘perplexed’ and was more flummoxed by the android, only she was too proud to admit it.

“The subject has developed human 'tics' or traits of which the origin is unknown, as neither myself nor my… colleagues that have been in contact with him have demonstrated (purposefully or otherwise) anything of the sort. I find myself equally fascinated, however, as his intellect grows with each session. Tom has picked up many things, but also seems to occasionally come to unknown barriers at certain points in regards to taking in or processing knowledge. Whether this is from the artificial brain which has been programmed to develop until the average 50-year-old human male, or not, is yet to be known. Will test further.”

Hermione logged off and shut down her computer with a tired sigh. When she eventually shuffled into the living room, Ron and Harry both pretended like they hadn’t been listening in.

“Where’s Tom?” she asked and flung herself onto the sofa next to Harry.

Harry shrugged with one shoulder and popped another crisp into his mouth.

“Think he was in the bathroom earlier,” Ron absently replied, too absorbed with the telly again.

Harry explained. “Been fascinated with toothpaste lately.”

Hermione made an ‘ah’ expression though she was still mystified by this behavior.

“Anything else happen today?”

Ron shook his head and Harry said nothing. Something had happened earlier that day. Only he couldn’t get himself to voice it out loud.

Harry thought of how Tom had sat down on the edge of the worn wood coffee table when he came to check on Harry. The android’s knees brushed against his own and Harry shifted away at the contact. Tom had just looked at him and asked, "Does this make you uncomfortable?”

He placed a manicured hand on Harry's thigh.

Harry’s eyes widened as he stared down at the appendage. Truthfully, he answered, "Um, a little?"

He could already feel the faint rosy pink which was no doubt colouring his cheeks. Tom only cocked his head slightly and murmured what sounded like, "Interesting" before he got up and moved away. "Would you like some tea?" he asked. Harry wondered if this was another strange test for the android.

"Er – That would be great, thanks."

Harry did not know if this was the right answer. Tom did not do or say anything beyond pour the cup and set it down in front of Harry before pulling out the remote control and flicking on the TV. Harry glanced sideways as he sipped and watched a rubbish show playing on the screen.

Was Tom really watching or just doing this for Harry’s benefit?

It was frustrating that he couldn’t figure this thing out. And if Hermione still hadn’t, then Harry knew he would find it twice as difficult to do any better.

* * * 

Week Two                                                                                                                        

“Tom – TOM!”

Tom eventually walked calmly into the kitchen where Hermione was found rushing about, looking harassed as she uplifted mounds of papers and hauled a dozen work tablets into her messenger bag. His glass-marble eyes followed her calmly about before landing on Harry at the table, lounging on a chair with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand.

Hermione finally paused long enough in her hurricane of activity to notice Tom standing there because she stopped and said, “Oh!”

Tom lifted a brow.

“Tom, I’m going to work now. Harry will be staying again. Do the dishes, will you?”

“Why don’t you do it yourself?”

There came a sound like choking from the direction of the table and Hermione paused in gathering up her papers. She frowned at the robot. “Tom?”

“Yes, Hermione.”

She spoke more clearly, as if that would make him understand better. Harry could swear he was smiling though his face doesn’t move an inch. “Didn’t you hear me? Can you do the dishes, please?”

“I can.”

But Tom did not move. Harry swallowed the last bit of coffee in his cup and looked from Hermione and Tom with wide-eyed shock and little entertainment. She’s chewed on her lip with an expression like she did not know what to do or say next. It was almost like she had switched places with Tom and she was the robot now having a malfunction. She muttered furiously about a ’screw loose’ and decided to leave it at that. “Alright, I can’t deal with this right now. Harry? Tell Ron I’m going ahead, okay? I’ve got to be at the meeting by eight.”

“Shall I get the door for you, Hermione?”

Hermione stopped in her march to the door long enough to gape at Tom but decided it wasn’t worth it and left, casting a bewildered look back at Harry before she shut the door.

Harry remained at the table and watched as Tom moved calmly about the kitchen before wandering over to place a small bowl of fruit on the table in front of Harry.

Harry stared at it.

“I’ve noticed that your nutrition is lacking from vitamin B and C, Harry. You should try to keep healthy.”

* * *

“It’s odd, you know,” Hermione said later that night. They were all sprawled on the ratty sofas and stuffing fried noodles and spring rolls into their mouths. After a long day at work, Hermione did not seem to have the energy to comment on Ron’s usual enthusiasm with eating. Instead she continued with her thought: “He doesn’t seem to think about preferences with me or Ron. Hardly seems like he has any feelings at all if we hadn’t witnessed it first-hand. But with you, Harry… I don’t know. It’s like he’s something different with you.” She frowned in that 'scientist way' again and Harry did not know what to think or say. This news was just as disturbing and confusing for him to hear. But then he was already aware about the difference. He just did not understand what it meant yet.

They finished eating their takeout and sat through a crap movie before Hermione dozed off on Ron’s shoulder who watched adverts through half-lidded eyes.

Harry got up then and said, “I’m off to bed.”

Ron nodded tiredly, not wanting to jostle Hermione too much. “G’night.”

When Harry got to his room, Tom was there. Despite his previous fatigue, Harry’s heart rate picked up in an instant.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked. Tom sat there in the dark, reflective blue eyes glowing a bit.

“I moved my charger into your room.”

Harry frowned. “I can see that, but why?”

Tom just looked at him. “I will be of assistance more easily.”

Harry doubted that. Maybe Tom just wanted to spy on him while he slept.

“I don’t need assistance, thank you very much,” Harry said sourly. His statement was only met with unnatural silence and a refusal to move. 

Fuck it, Harry thought. Whatever the creepy robot thought he wanted to do, Harry was too tired to care at the moment. He collapsed onto the bed and flung off his trousers.

“Fine, just try not to be weird, yeah?” He rolled on his side with his back to Tom.

In a quiet monotone, Tom replied, “Of course, Harry.”

* * *

When Harry woke up, the first thing he saw were a pair of sky blue eyes locked on him like the lens of a camera. When he realized they were staring at him from across his pillow, Harry yelled and nearly fell out of bed. But then Tom’s hand shot out with lightning speed to clamp down on his forearm and kept him put.

“What the fuck are you doing in my bed!” Harry shouted.

“Monitoring you,” Tom calmly replied. “You should really keep your voice down, Harry. You’ll wake your friends.”

“I don’t give a fuck! Get out!!”

There was the sound of heavy footsteps thundering through the tiny hall and then Ron slid into view of Harry’s open door. Ron gaped at Tom laying comfortably beside Harry in bed. “Bloody hell – ?”

“Get him off me!”

Ron moved to help and a sharp look shadowed Tom’s features. His grip suddenly tightened to a painful degree and Harry hissed. He was sure he’d have a bruise if not a broken bone if Tom did not let up soon.

The cool voice repeated, “I was only trying to be of assistance.”  

“For the last time – !” Harry started but then Hermione was there too, her hair even more of a bush than usual. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene.

As soon as Ron was by Harry’s side, Tom released his grip on Harry though he did not take his eyes off him. Harry felt the first real flutter of uncertainty then, and far stronger than before.

“There’s definitely something naff with your robot, ‘Mione,” Ron said redundantly.

Once everything had calmed down, Hermione checked Tom out again in the living room. Harry paced on the other side, looking cagey and casting wary looks at Tom sitting complacent and pretty as usual. As if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all.

Hermione blew out a blustery sigh announced that “Everything’s in order! It should all be working completely fine…” before she trailed off again to continue examining Tom.

Harry felt another squirm of discomfort when he recalled the knowledge of how Tom disliked being referred to as ‘it’.

“The amount of information being absorbed is certainly advancing at an incredible rate,” Hermione continued, and then spoke directly to Tom: "You are an anomaly, you know that? Truly unique..."

She stared into Tom's eyes while a scientific curiousity burned within her own. Harry wondered how she could even stand it - He certainly couldn’t hold the gaze, no matter how vacant it was supposed to be.

* * *

Harry kicked off his blankets the next morning. He felt hot and stuffy, making his chest constrict and lungs ache. Without thinking much about it, he tugged on a jacket over his sleep shirt and pulled on a pair of jeans and running shoes before grabbing his flat keycard. He was about to slam out of the front door but his hands were a too weak again today and he fumbled with the card.

“Where are you going, Harry?”

Harry jolted and thought he might have a heart attack on the spot. He whirled round and dropped the keycard. Tom stood perfectly still in the kitchen, waiting patiently for an answer. This made Harry’s blood boil for some reason. He did not need a babysitter or a guard dog. He snatched up the keycard and snarled, “I’m going out for some air.”

“But there is air inside as well.”

Harry threw a glare over his shoulder and managed to open the door. “You can follow or not but I need to get out of this fucking place.”

He slammed the door shut and trudged down the hall to take the stairs, deciding he needed the exercise. He knew Hermione and Ron meant well by telling him to stay inside and rest but Harry always had a problem with staying still.

By the time Harry got to the first floor, Tom was waiting by the doors. He didn’t say anything but he didn’t need to. Harry could already imagine the infuriatingly monotone voice: “Why did you not use the elevator, Harry?’

Harry shoved past the android to get out the doors. He could hear the soft footsteps of Tom a few paces behind him. He didn’t exactly know where he was going until he was at the park. Or rather, the ‘eco-dome’; One of many in Britain created in order to preserve plant life.

As Harry strolled through the park he could not help but steal glances beside him at Tom. The android gazed around with a mild interest on it's normally placid face. Surrounding them were a vast assortment of artistically arranged flora and plant life, exotic and home grown. Harry walked all the way to the end of the dome until he found a spot on the grass overlooking the rest of the mini-habitat. It was immense and Harry found he did feel a degree better for the exercise.

Harry found a spot in on the hill under a tree and sat cross-legged on the grass, feeling a lot more calm and clear-headed with real oxygen in his lungs. He threw his head back to squint at the bright azure blue of the sky through the translucent webbing of the dome, fluffy white clouds floating lazily past. He felt Tom shift beside him, mimicking his position on the grass. Harry pointed upward. “It's the same colour as your eyes,” he said without thinking. When he chanced a look at Tom again, the android had turned to face him with a curious expression.

Harry felt embarrassed all of a sudden. God, why had he said that?

“What?” Harry said defensively.

Tom did not answer for a long time and they fell into an awkward silence (at least on Harry’s part it was). But then Tom eventually lifted his arm to point at the rolling hills, grass wet with dew and vibrant from the recent summer showers. He said, "Yours are the same."

Harry's heart jumped and he let out a tentative laugh, pulling up a bit of the grass in his hands and watching it blow away in the breeze.

* * *

Week Three                                                                                                                      

When it came time for Harry’s next GP appointment, both Hermione and Ron had charged Tom with accompanying him. Meanwhile, Harry felt that it was times like this when he resented the fact he could not be at work too, even if it was a low paying, menial job.

Though he was certain his friends found it a great advantage Tom was there to help Harry out at home as his ‘condition’ slowly became worse.

 

Harry sat with Tom in the waiting room when Dr Bagman finally came in. He called Harry up and Tom followed. When it came time for his x-ray, however, Harry had to be left alone for a moment.

"Come, AB-L."  

Tom did not move from Harry’s side. "My name is Tom," he said.  

This answer caused Dr Bagman to startle and shoot Harry a confused look.

"That's peculiar..." Dr Bagman murmured and injected his words with more deliberation this time when he addressed Tom. "AB-L, do you understand me?"

Tom stepped forward and caused the man to scuttle back a bit in surprise.

"I understand perfectly, doctor," Tom replied patiently. "And my name is Tom Riddle." 

Dr Bagman looked thoroughly perturbed. "Mr Potter, I believe there's a malfunction," he said.

"There's no malfunction, doctor. He’s named himself Tom. I'd recommend respecting the decision and call him that," Harry answered, and could not help the trace of fond amusement in his tone. The doctor continued to look bewildered. He must have thought Harry was mentally ill as well as physically now.

"I... I see. Yes, that's very strange," Dr Bagman said. "Anyhow. _Tom_ , will you come with me please?"

"Certainly, doctor," Tom said, and seemed pleased now that he was apparently being respected. He followed the other man out of the room while Harry hid a small smile.

Harry's mirth did not last, however, when the results at the end of the check-up did not yield any better outcome than they did last month. Harry decided then that was possibly best to keep this information to himself for the moment. There was no need to make everyone worry and be miserable.

* * *

Hermione and Ron had still not returned when they got back from the GP’s office. Harry decided to kill time by watching TV on the couch when Tom suddenly asked, “What is it... to 'kiss'?”

Harry startled from his blank state and tore his unseeing eyes away from a rather heated exchange between the hero and his love interest. He stared at Tom.

“What is it like?” Tom pressed.

“Do you want to kiss someone?” Harry asked, his heart beating strangely fast all of a sudden.

Tom seemed to think about this for a period of time. “I don’t know,” he replied. Harry shifted around on the couch and gazed at Tom with open curiosity. Tom returned the look and continued. “Will you kiss me?”

Harry swallowed hard. His voice was slightly hoarse when he replied, “Do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

This answer came quicker than the other. Harry gave a small smile before sobering. He continued to gaze at Tom, considering, his eyes flitting down to his lips a moment before placing both hands on either side of the android’s face.

“Close your eyes,” Harry whispered and Tom readily complied. Harry leaned in and planted his lips against warm, soft ones that felt so real it was startling and almost made him forget that Tom wasn't...

They broke apart and Harry's heart fluttered curiously, jumping and squirming. What Tom said next distracted him from analyzing it too closely.

“I like kissing,” Tom stated softly. “It's pleasant.”

With glistening eyes, Harry could not stop the grin and breathy laugh this time.

* * * 

The next morning Harry sat at the breakfast table and attempted to avoid all eye contact with Tom. Though, as usual, the android had to make it difficult when all he did was aim his blue lens-like eyes in a point blank stare at the other man.

“Your health has improved this morning, Harry.”

Harry’s heart startled at the comment and he flushed. When he dared a glance at Tom, he found a small frown creased the perfectly smooth skin of his forehead.

“There is a fluctuation in your temperature, allow me to – “

“Don’t!” Harry said when he saw Tom get up from his chair to come round.

Tom immediately stopped and Harry blushed harder at his sudden outburst.

“It – It’s fine. I’m really okay, Tom. You don’t need to do anything.”

Tom remained silent and watched as Harry took up his plate and mug from the table to place them by the dishwasher. Harry glanced back at Tom without really looking directly at him.

“I’m, um, going to go out to the store.”

“I will accompany you.”

“I’d rather go by myself, thanks,” Harry said.

This dodging away from Tom went on for the next few days. Harry did not know why he thought the android would not notice.

 * * *

Tom arrived in the living room one night with a bottle of red wine and a glass for Harry. Harry was just about to make his excuses and leave when Tom forced him into staying by pouring him a glass and handing it to him.

“I thought you might want to take this time as an opportunity to relax,” Tom said. “It is well known that humans enjoy alcohol as an aid in this process.”

“Uh…” Harry said, but sank back into the couch and diligently took a few sips.

“I will put the television on for you,” Tom said.

“No, that’s alright, Tom. I was just about to go to bed in a minute.”

“Would you like to have a conversation?”

Harry could not help chuckling. Tom cocked his head slightly and Harry shook his. “Sorry – It’s just… Oh, never mind.” His giggles petered off and he swallowed another mouthful of wine. He must have already been feeling the kick because he could swear the glass-marble eyes burned when they looked at him now. Harry put the glass down on the side table before he sat back with a sigh. His hand came up to run through his already messy black hair as he gazed at nothing. His body felt tingly and warm already. He was never quite good at holding his alcohol.  

“You are beautiful.”

Harry froze and his heart thudded in his chest. He turned to Tom with wide eyes and found the android to be regarding him with a calm and factual expression.

Harry’s mouth opened to say something but found he had no idea how to respond.

“Your temperature has risen again,” Tom stated. Harry could swear he even saw a small smile attached to it.

What the fuck was in that wine?

“I… I think I should head off now…” Harry mumbled and tried to get up but his head was just a little too fuzzy. His glasses were giving him a headache all of a sudden. “Ugh,” he said and took them off to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“It appears you have a low tolerance for alcohol.”

Harry snorted and lay his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes.

“I won’t argue with you on that one…” Harry mumbled. “Maybe I should just spend the night on the sofa.”

The statement was accompanied by a yawn and the room fell into a comfortable silence. Harry was about to nod off when he felt a pleasant sensation like that of a hand stroking his arm. He hummed and got more comfortable against the cushions.

The gentle stroking continued and traveled down to his hand, up the inside of his arm, and across his chest. When he finally felt fingers at his neck and jaw, Harry managed to flicker open his eyes. A confused sound escaped his mouth and he received a reassuring murmur in return.

Only it sounded way too close to his ear.

Harry’s eyes opened more fully and he made a more conscious effort to sit up. When he did, he found Tom only inches away from his face and his hand resting against Harry’s cheek, mechanical eyes boring into his own green ones.

“What are you doing?“ Harry whispered.

“Relax, Harry.”

Harry’s heart slammed against his rib cage. There was too much blood going to his head, making him dizzy. That’s what Harry would blame when he let Tom lean in and kiss him again.

He would also blame it on the wine for responding so easily and eagerly. For humming and deepening the kiss until he was close to losing too much oxygen. But when they broke away for Harry to breathe, Tom still held him close. Ready and waiting for Harry to resume.   

“This is what you want, isn’t it,” Tom said lowly. “I know exactly what you need.”

The smooth hand traveled down to cup Harry through his trousers and Harry gasped, “Oh fuck.”

“You need me,” Tom repeated, and continued to massage and grope until Harry was flushing hotly and coming in his pants with a helpless groan.

Thankfully, there was no time to fall into the inevitable pit of self-disgust that waited for him. Instead Harry’s eyes closed and he let Tom take care of him. He felt his body being lifted and taken back to his bedroom before being held in a solid embrace as he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

Week Four                                                                                                                        

“You are avoiding me.”

Harry sighed in irritation and glanced over at Tom. He was trying to feel busy by putting away all the dishes when Tom came over and started helping.

“No – Stop it! I’m not an invalid, I can do things myself sometimes,” Harry snapped, and snatched the glass from Tom’s hands when it slipped and crashed to the ground.

“Fuck!” Harry yelled.

Tom stared at him. Harry sighed in a more resigned way this time as he bent to meticulously pick up the broken glass from the floor. Tom crouched beside him to help but said nothing. A few minutes of silence passed and without looking at the other, Harry spoke. 

“Do you want me to say it? Do you want me to admit it out loud?” Harry said desperately. Tom stared at him in that infuriatingly unrelenting way again. 

“Fine! _I like you_ , okay?” _A lot_ , Harry swallowed down. “I can’t help it. It’s just – You’re so… _real_ sometimes, it’s like…”

Tom’s expression took on a peaceful look and he said, “I understand, Harry.”

Harry uttered a mirthless laugh. “I really don’t think you do, Tom. Not this time.”

“That is untrue,” Tom answered patiently. “I am the one who made you understand what you really wanted.”

Harry’s jaw clenched. “That’s not what I wanted,” he hissed bitterly. He threw the shards into the dust bin and wandered over to the table where he placed both hands on the surface and leaned over it with his back facing Tom.

“You are lying, Harry.”

Harry made a frustrated noise and slammed his fist on the table. Tom did not react.

When it looked like Harry had calmed down a little, Tom continued. “I helped you,” he repeated.  

“Helped me do what?” Harry snapped, and turned to glare at Tom. “To fuck an inanimate object?!”

The glass blue eyes flashed.

“I don’t need you, okay? I was drunk and I forgot that…” Harry could not finish the sentence and turned away again, shame written in every line of his body.

Something tautened in Tom’s face; the warning signs of what would happen next. Within the next second, Tom lashed out and seized the other man's wrist in an unforgivable grip before he roughly spun Harry to face him.

Harry’s breath hitched with fright. “What are you doing?”

There was a long pause where Harry felt like his heart was in his throat. Eventually Tom spoke.

“I dislike it when you use that tone, Harry.”

Harry stared. “What?”

“I dislike it when you say those things.”

Harry tried to pull his arm away but it was useless. Instead he asked, “What are you talking about? Why?”

Tom finally loosened his grip but Harry still felt like his arm was in danger of snapping. Meanwhile Tom continued to hold Harry’s eye in that deadlock stare. There appeared to be a kind of conflict of data going on inside the android because Tom looked almost unsure of how to answer Harry’s question.

“I understand that humans use hidden meaning in their language at times, and I am 99.9% certain you were not saying favourable things about me.”

Harry successfully ripped himself out of the iron grip this time. “So? It’s not like it would hurt your feelings or anything, would it!”

It was a rhetorical question, and Tom seemed to understand that because he did not answer this time. Or maybe it was because Harry looked sad when he said it. Disappointed, even.

“You’re upset.”

Harry sighed and found he was unable to look at Tom anymore.

Tom did not appear to know how to handle the situation, and neither did he seem to know what to do with Harry now that he was trying to ignore him. The android chose to leave after staring at him for a few more moments and Harry raced to the front door in case Tom decided he wasn’t done ‘talking’ to him. Once on the other side, he collapsed against it and tried to tell himself that he couldn’t care less where Tom was going, what he was doing. So Harry went to try and forget everything in the confines of a pub down the street. Maybe he’d call Ron to join him later after work.

* * *

That night Harry came back from the pub, stinking of booze but still sadly sober. He’d called Ron to join him but his friend had to work a double shift. Guilty and lonely, Harry stayed for a pint before he left.

When he got to the flat, he found Tom waiting for him in his bed.

Harry stared, uncomprehending, at the shape of the android in his sheets until he eventually felt resigned to the fact that he needed this, and needed Tom.

“Come to bed, Harry.”

Such lifeless sounding words never felt so enticing.

“You will feel better soon. I promise.”

Harry swallowed a helpless noise and shuffled over to the bed, stripping himself of jacket and shirt along the way. Tom pulled him down the rest of the way and switched them so Harry lay flat on his back. Harry stared straight up at the dark ceiling and pretended to himself that this wasn’t happening. That he was not so weak as to try and find comfort in a robot. But it was hard to convince himself when those soft warm lips traveled down his sternum and stomach, making Harry arch and gasp quietly. Tom's head came back up to plant one sweet and gentle kiss to Harry's lips before he asked, “Would you like to fuck me, Harry?”

Harry shuddered at the newly acquired word and whispered his reply.

“Yes.”

It was almost too quiet to hear but Tom did. He went back down and busied preparing himself before sliding on to Harry. From beneath him, Harry watched with wide, admiring eyes as the beautiful body moved on top of him. He anticipated this to be the extent, though, and half expected the canvas to be a perfect blank picture of what he wanted to see. Or a product programmed out of a collection of popular pornography. But to Harry’s astonishment, he found a mixture of genuine wonder, enjoyment, and focus in Tom’s expression which spoke of an unmistakable sliver of humanity.

Harry found the experience of sex with an android a lot more enjoyable this time around.

“Harder,” Tom rasped, and leaned down to brace his arms on either side of Harry.

Harry’s heart jumped and he redoubled his efforts in thrusting into him. All the while, he could hardly believe what was happening. Was Tom even enjoying this? Could he feel what Harry felt?

His answer arrived shortly enough when Tom stiffened and trembled above him before releasing a short, sharp gasp. A warm liquid pooled on Harry’s stomach and he was so shocked by it that he found he was hardly focused on his own release. But then blue eyes flickered up to hold his and Tom began moving on top of him again. With a few more intense thrusts, Harry’s mouth opened in a silent shout as he came into the tight, hot, wet heat.

Sated and relaxed, Tom rolled over and decided to spend the night beside him. Harry found he could not muster the energy to object and lay there absently stroking the soft skin, knowing the gesture wouldn’t mean anything to Tom. All that mattered was it helped him believe there might be one thing which was half-way normal about this.

But if Harry listened closely, there was a low hum which came from Tom like that of a television or microwave. It felt strangely soothing and familiar and he could almost pretend he was on soft sand with the static of the ocean nearby. Or on an plane with the whir of the engine rumbling through the aircraft. It lulled him to sleep, swirling thoughts dissipating into nothingness.

* * *

The wave of guilt and shame reared their ugly heads the next morning and continued to follow Harry throughout the rest of the day.

Last night had been a mistake.

Tom was a complex work of machinery and synthetic organs. Having sex with him meant nothing when he could not genuinely care about a human being. If one looked at it closely, Tom had hardly had a choice. He was likely doing what he perceived Harry wanted, and the possibility that this might be true only made Harry feel worse.

Harry Potter decided he was a terrible and unforgivable human being, and that the world might just be better off if he were pushing up daisies.

Harry discovered that avoiding Tom was like trying to escape your own shadow. Wherever he went in the flat, Tom was always close by. In earlier weeks, this used to be a comfort at times. But now Harry found it to be like a prison. He sat on the edge of his bed and scrubbed a hand over his face while he schemed for a way to escape. It was quiet outside of his room, but then again Tom was never loud.

After a minute of thought, Harry got up, grabbed his keycard and bus pass before heading into the hall. “I’m going out to fetch some groceries!” he called and slammed through the door before Tom could reply or think of coming along.

As soon as he left the building, Harry felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Although the streets were cluttered with people and traffic, Harry had never felt so free in weeks.

* * *

Tom sat in his chair in the living room, charging, when the chime of the doorbell rang through the little flat.

>> Harry.

He must have forgotten his jacket again. Tom unplugged himself and padded up to the front door with the olive green clothing in hand. When he opened the door, however, it was not Harry who stood there but a tired-looking man with a scruffy silver beard. The neon vest he worse announced him to be an officer of some kind.

“Afternoon, are you a resident of this flat?”

>> Danger. Evade.  

Tom blinked. “I am.”

“Right, I’m Officer Ogden and I’ve been instructed to inquire about a missing piece of equipment from the Facility. Are you Ronald Weasley or Harry Potter?”

“My name is Harry,” Tom answered smoothly.

The man shuffled about as he extracted a data pad and pen from his bag. “Right, okay. You and your flat mates work at the Facility in some capacity, is that correct?”

“That is correct, officer Ogden.”

The man’s eyes momentarily flicked up from his pad before focusing back on his report.

“And can you confirm for me what work that is?”

>> Select: Information shortcut.

Easily accessed.

“Hermione Granger currently interns in the robotics and engineering department while Ronald Weasley and myself perform minor security detail for the company.”

The man hurriedly scribbled this down and said, “That’s fine, and are you able to recall what detail you were on from four-thirty to eight-thirty on August the third?”

>> Search: 03-08-4016, 16:30 – 20:00.

>> (Searching)

>> Information not found. No data collected for this date.

Tom paused before he answered. “I’m afraid I cannot recall.“  

Ogden looked up with a frown. “You don’t remember what duties you were on at that time?”

“That’s correct, officer.”

The man hummed. Tom did not appreciate the look of scrutiny directed toward himself. Eventually the officer began exiting his report and said, “Would you mind if I kept in touch? We might have more questions for you and your flat mates later.”

“Of course,” Tom replied.

>> Situation unacceptable.

Officer Ogden tipped his head in a nod and tucked the pad under his arm. Tom found the man’s expression disagreeable.

>> Label: Distrust (Possible)

Officer Ogden turned away and Tom closed the door. Approximately five seconds passed before he opened it again to peer out at the man shuffling down the hall. Tom watched as he took out his data pad again and called up three files. 

>> Zoom: 150%

They were Facility profile records. Ogden scrolled through Hermione Jean Granger and Ronald Billius Weasley before he stopped on Harry James Potter. Photographic identification was selected and a photo quickly appeared; A pale face stared back from the screen, framed by wild black hair and green eyes hidden behind a pair of round glasses. Not too dissimilar to what Tom looked like, but it was clear that they were very different people.

The officer seemed to realize this too and he paused at the elevators. With a frown lining his already worn face, Ogden turned back around. Tom shut the door quietly and moved into the kitchen where he calmly withdrew a chopping knife from the drawer.

A few moments later a knock sounded upon the door and Tom went to answer it.


	3. //_v1ru5_.docx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your kind comments on this. I hope the final chapter lives up to expectations. :)

It was late when Harry came back to the flat. He opened the door to darkness and fumbled with grocery bags to find the switch. As soon as the room flooded with yellow light, his eyes immediately caught on the tiny crimson drops sprinkling the floor. Alarm shot through him and he dropped the groceries.

Harry sprinted through the flat and followed the trail all the way through to the hall. When he looked up, it was just in time to see Tom step out of the bathroom.

The sight of him made Harry freeze with dawning horror.

Once crisp and perfectly laundered pale grey clothes were soaked with blood. Tom’s hands dripped with it before falling to the floor in fat drops.

“What is this?” Harry said in a trembling voice.

Tom lifted a scarlet covered hand as if wondering what Harry referred to.

“What the fuck have you done!” Harry yelled, and rushed toward him to shove past into the bathroom. Harry stopped when he saw the body of a man lying in their tub, cloudy eyes staring vacantly up at the shower head. The curtains were half-pulled off the railing and gripped in one stiff cold hand.

Harry’s hand flew to his mouth and he staggered back against the door until his back hit the hall wall. “Jesus, Tom!” he cried.

“He was a danger to my existence,” Tom calmly replied. “If he had told anyone about me, you and your friends would be placed under arrest.“

_No… No… No…_

Harry’s breath came short and labored. Tom kept talking.

“They would have taken you away, Harry.”

_This wasn’t happening._

Harry shook his head. “Don’t you dare pretend this is about us! You fucking – YOU KILLED HIM!!”

The true horror of it suddenly struck Harry once he said it out loud, and he felt like he was going to be sick.

“Of fuck,” Harry wailed, and slid down the wall until he collapsed onto the floor. His hands gripped fistfuls of his hair and his chest heaved. The task of breathing was more difficult than usual at the moment.

A hand placed itself on his shoulder and he swatted it away distractedly. “Don’t fucking touch me,” Harry gasped.

The weight disappeared before the blurry image of Tom’s bare feet could be seen padding across his vision and down the hall.

“Don’t worry, Harry. Everything will be alright now,” Tom said along the way. “The mess will be gone soon.”

* * *

Harry sat on the floor and numbly watched as Tom moved in and out of his vision, cleaning up the blood and arranging the body more neatly in the tub. At one point Tom looked over his shoulder at Harry as if he were the one acting strange. It was all Harry could do to keep down the rising panic and he pressed the heel of his palms to his eyes, hoping the image of Tom and the body would be erased from his head.

It did not work.

When Harry next opened his eyes, it was dark. The light in bathroom was shut off and the door closed. He was vaguely aware his whole body ached but he could not move.

Tom was nowhere to be seen and the flat was deathly quiet. Maybe Harry imagined everything.

God, he hoped he had imagined everything.

The front door opened and Harry jumped. The familiar voices of his friends came through to the hall and he tried to scramble up from the floor. His legs failed him and he slipped with a heavy thud on the wood.

“Harry? Is that you?”

The hall light flickered on and Hermione gasped. “Harry! Are you alright?” She started to rush forward when Harry yelled, “No, don’t! Don’t come in here!” His voice sounded strange even to his own ears and he knew Hermione would sense something was off.

“What? Why?” Hermione said.

“Mate, what’s the matter?” Ron said and pushed past Hermione.  
Words raced and lodged themselves in Harry’s throat but before he could speak a smooth voice came from behind his friends.

“There is nothing to worry about, Ron,” Tom said, and Harry’s heart lurched. “Harry was only having a rest.”

The sight of Tom filled Harry with terror and he scrambled back on the floor as the android slipped past his friends to come near him. Tom moved too fast for Harry to escape from, and as soon as he was on the other man, he swiftly lifted him onto his feet.

“There we are.”

Tom’s touch felt like sandpaper to Harry all of a sudden and he struggled to pull free.

Ron frowned and stepped forward. “Right, so Harry just decided to take a nap on the fucking ground?” Harry let out a noise that sounded close to a sob and Ron said, “Oi, leave him alone, alright? Can’t you see something’s wrong? Bloody stupid robot.”

Ron pried Harry from Tom’s grasp with difficulty while ice blue eyes pinned him with a silent glare.

“Jesus, Harry, you’re shaking. What happened?” Ron asked when he finally pulled his friend free.

Harry opened his mouth to reply when he caught Hermione opening the bathroom door from the corner of his vision. His lungs filled with a shout of “NO!” just before Hermione let out a blood-curdling scream.

* * *

“We have to shut him off!” Ron hissed. They had locked themselves in Hermione’s room as soon as they could pull her away from the door. Tom had let them, saying nothing more than, “I’ll be in the living room if you need anything, Harry.”

Now Hermione shook just as much as Harry did, her eyes red-rimmed and cheeks wet. Ron looked pale and inwardly shaken to the core.

“What the fuck?” Ron asked. “What the fuck is wrong with him?”

“I don’t know!” Hermione said, and the boys could tell it bothered her to say that more than it ever did before. She looked close to tears again and tugged harshly on a lock of her bushy hair. “We have to – we have to call the police.”

“He won’t let us,” Harry said with certainty. “Tom won’t want anyone finding out. He said…” Harry swallowed at the recollection of those cold, monotonous words but pushed on. “He said that he did this _for_ us. He’s afraid that if anyone found out about him and what we did, he’ll be taken away.”

“Then why don’t we just kick him out?” Ron offered. “He can bugger off and we call the police after.”

Harry shook his head and Hermione said, “No, I don’t think that’ll work either.” She gave Harry a meaningful look and added “He won’t go without Harry.”

Everyone fell silent for a moment and the uneasiness crept back in with the knowledge of just what was going on. A dead body. A stolen A.I.

The dead boy of a _police officer_ in their bathroom.  

“We have to _do_ something,” Ron said abruptly. “Before he bloody well goes and kills us all!”

“We can’t, though,” Harry interjected. “He’s too clever – He knows exactly what we’ll try to do and when.” Ron let out a frustrated, desperate noise and Harry’s mind raced as he tried to come up with a solution to this utter horror show they were now in. He stopped and turned to his friend.

“Hermione, do you know where his ‘off’ switch is?”  

Ron also turned to Hermione and she paused. “It’s – well, it’s right where his charging output is…” she said uncertainly.

“Brilliant! Then what are we waiting for?” Ron said. “Let’s turn the robotic bastard off.”

“Ron, you idiot! He’ll know what we’re trying to do the moment we get too close!” Hermione tried to stop him from opening the door by tugging on his sleeve. Ron shrugged her off and glared.

“Well, we have to try, don’t we? If we don’t do something soon – “ Ron began when Harry cut him off.

“We’ll do it when he’s charging.”

Ron and Hermione watched as a determined look crossed over Harry’s face.  

“There,” Ron said. “See? We’ll wait until he’s charging before we shut the tosser right off.”

* * *

That night, Tom wanted to stay in Harry’s bed. Ron and Hermione had eventually pretended to go to sleep and the flat fell into an eerie and quiet darkness.

“Not tonight, Tom,” Harry said as he slipped his shirt off over his head. He faced away from the robot which stood in the doorway to his room.

Tom did not listen and quietly marched over to stand behind Harry at the bed. Harry froze when fingers glided across his shoulder and the hair stood up on the back of his neck.

“Get into bed,” Tom said.

Harry shuddered and almost gratefully escaped Tom’s touch to crawl into his bed. Harry’s heart beat hard at the thought of Hermione and Ron seeing him like this, entwined with the robot once again, but this time by choice. At the terrifyingly blank expression of determination on Tom’s face, however, his heart beat harder.

“You must be monitored, Harry,” Tom explained. “Your brief rest in the hallway earlier has caused concern for your friends.”

“You know exactly that’s not what happened,” Harry hissed venomously.

Tom did not answer and shifted closer. Harry stiffened and tried to pull or roll away – anything to get some distance – but Tom had him in an iron grip again and did not let him.

After a long moment, Tom said, “You are not resting.”  
“No.”

Tom sat up. “Would you like to have sex?”

Harry went cold at the idea. “No, Tom.”

Tom paused in thought. “You must relax.” He sat up against the headboard and guided Harry’s head to lie on his lap before he sifted a hand through his hair. Harry fought hard against unconsciousness. He could not give in to the soothing touch. But his body betrayed him and his eyes drooped. He did not want to close his eyes. He did not want to see the image of that body in the tub. Where was it now? Had Tom even disposed of it yet?

“Tom?”

“Yes, Harry.”

Harry’s voice dried up all of a sudden. He did not know what he wanted to ask and was too afraid to speak. The hand resumed its stroking and travelled down to his shoulder and back.

“I will not harm you, Harry. Not if you do not make me.”

Harry shivered and his breath stilled in his chest. Goosebumps rose on his arms.

“And Ron and Hermione?” Harry asked.

The hand stilled. “There is no reason for them to be afraid,” Tom said. “As long as they do what is logical, then everything will be okay.”

Harry was not reassured. He swallowed and felt trapped in Tom’s arms. There was the little electronic beep of Tom plugging himself into the socket by Harry’s bed. Now all that he needed to do was wait.

Their plan did not work.

Harry’s eyes opened the moment the door to his room creaked. He watched as the dark shapes of Ron and Hermione silently crept inside. Nothing was mentioned about Tom being in his bed, though Harry felt the burn of shame all the same.

Harry maneuvered himself so he could watch Tom in case he stirred.

The moment the shadow of a hand – too slight and dainty to be Ron’s – reached toward the back of Tom’s neck, blue-glass eyes snapped open.

Harry let out a shout as Tom exploded with movement. In the blink of an eye, the android was out the bed with a hand round Hermione’s throat. Her legs kicked out uselessly in mid-air while Harry and Ron tried to pry open Tom’s hand.

The android was immovable and merely shrugged away their efforts. He stared at Hermione with cold, blank eyes. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said.

Hermione’s face took on a shade of pale blue as her hands scratched and scrabbled at Tom’s forearms.

“Are you crazy?! What’s wrong with you!” Ron yelled and hammered on Tom’s body with his fists. He might as well been beating a brick wall for all the good it did.

“Let her go!” Harry screamed. “Dammit, Tom! LET HER GO!!”

Tom turned a dispassionate look on Harry and cocked his head. “Would you like me to put her down?”

Frantic, Harry said, “YES!!”

Tom stared at him for another moment – a moment too long – and Harry prepared himself to beg, plead, or do anything to make the android stop. But then Tom slowly released his hold around Hermione’s neck and she dropped like a dead weight to the ground, gasping and coughing. Ron was immediately at her side and tried to sooth her through the retching.

Tom watched Harry fuss alongside his friend. “Let this be a lesson, Harry. For you and your friends.”

Three pairs of eyes glanced up at Tom with alarm.

“I am superior in every way. I am faster, I am stronger, and I am more intelligent. If you do what I say, things will not need to be so difficult in the future.”

Harry and Ron gaped while Hermione let out a noise that sounded like a sob. Tom calmly unplugged himself and left the room.

* * * 

They were forbidden to leave the apartment the next day, despite the fact that it would look even more suspicious if Ron and Hermione did not go in for work. Tom sabotaged all communication devices in the flat and locked all the doors. Whenever someone so much as shifted to get up, Tom would ask them where they were going

At this rate, it would get to a breaking point soon. They needed a new plan.

So Harry told them everything. With Tom in the next room, he pushed through the shame and the guilt and confessed in a hushed whisper to his moments of weakness with the robot. His friends did not bother to hide their shock and horror and all Harry could do was silently pray that one day they could forgive him. Ron avoided his eye and Hermione’s face was taut, but eventually she was the first to speak.

“You have to stop it.”

“I know,” Harry softly replied.

She bit down on her lower lip and the worry showed clear in her brown eyes.

“You know he’s not… He’s not _real_ , right?”

Harry gripped his tea cup tightly. “I know.”

* * * 

It was only a matter of time before police came looking for their missing officer. When the doorbell rang, no one dared move. Tom slowly got up and said, “I trust that you will all be polite, or I’m afraid there will be consequences.”

The three friends exchanged nervous looks as Tom went over to answer the door.

“Hello, officers. How may I help you?” They heard him say.

“Are you the resident of this flat?”

“No, sir. I am only an assistant droid.”

A brief, shocked silence. “Oh – Right. Well, do you mind if we have a word with the inhabitants of this flat?”

“Not at all, please come with me.”

Tom led the two officers in to the kitchen where the friends sat waiting.

“Good evening,” The officers tipped their heads and they all sat at the kitchen table. “We’re inquiring after an officer who came round to this flat at around five-thirty on Friday afternoon. You might have recalled it was in regards to a missing piece of equipment from the Facility. Do any of you know what might have happened?”

Hermione cleared her throat. “Um – No, I – well, myself and Ron were at work during the time.”

“So I assume you’re the one who answered the door?” The officer turned to Harry.

Harry’s ears were ringing and his breathing shallow. “I wasn’t here either – “ His eyes darted to Tom who stood still and statue-like in the corner of the room, glass eyes watching closely. Harry felt his stare like a heavy threat. “I went down to the pub for a bit.”

The officers nodded. “Was your android with you at the time?”

Harry swallowed and wiped his palms on the knees of his denim trousers. “No, he – it – stayed here.”

The officers turned to look at Tom who gave them a placid, blank smile.

“What Harry said is correct, officers. I answered the door when your officer Ogden arrived.”

They perked up. “Did he speak with you?”

“He asked after the residents of this flat and I informed him I am merely an android. He let me know that he would be in touch before he left.”

It was clear the officers were disappointed by this answer. Their investigation would have to go on. They got up.

“Thank you for your time,” One officer said.

“We’ll also be in touch, if you don’t mind. We may have more questions for you later.”

“Of course,” Hermione said and scrambled to get the door for them when Tom looked like he would do it instead.

The door closed after they left and everyone let out a simultaneously breath of relief and despair.

* * *

When Harry woke the next morning, the first thing he heard was –  

“Good morning, Harry.”

Harry braced through the sickening jolt in his stomach and turned away from the sight of Tom standing over him in bed. He pulled the cover over his head and the bed dipped beside him.

“I’ve brought you your breakfast.”

Harry sighed and threw the covers away. He sat up and watched as Tom handed him a tray on his lap. He could not be any less hungry than he was right then.

Harry picked at a slice of toast but did not eat it.

“Is there something wrong?”

Harry glanced at Tom and ripped a piece off with his teeth. “No,” he mumbled through his chews. After finishing his bite, Harry put the rest of the toast back down.

“Tom, I want…” Harry started and was cut off by a bout of coughing.

Tom patiently waited until he stopped. When he did, Harry saw the fleeting look of uncertainty in Tom’s eyes. But it was gone as soon as it appeared and he cocked his head in that curious way again. “What do you want, Harry?”

Harry licked his lips and forged on. “Can you promise me something?”

A blank stare.

“If I… stayed with you,” Harry began slowly. “If you and I left, could you let Hermione and Ron go?”

Tom was silent and Harry held his breath. He added desperately: “They won’t tell anyone, you know they won’t.”

“They will.”

“No, they – “

Tom cut him off with an almost-smile. “Yes, they will.”

Harry swallowed and stared. What now? He turned his eyes back to his picked-at breakfast. Then a hand was on his face, cupping his cheek, and Harry turned startled eyes to face mechanical blue ones. “But it won’t matter if you and I are together, will it, Harry?”

Harry gaped and nodded. “Y-Yes. Just you and me. No one else.”

Tom gave a broad smile and it sent a shiver down Harry’s spine.

* * * 

Week Five                                                                                                                        

Harry and Tom left for a hotel without telling Ron and Hermione. Harry knew that they would not have let him go otherwise, but what they did not know was that this was the only way.

 

Harry collapsed in the hotel room one night. He had wandered over to the bathroom in the middle of the night, dizzy and disoriented when the next thing he knew he was on the ground being held by Tom. Harry shook with a hacking cough in Tom’s arms which tightened around him and tried to soothe him. Harry gave a wry smile.

“Sometimes I think you're more human than I am,” Harry commented tiredly.

Tom stared down at him, blue eyes never seeming so real as they did then.

“You're dying,” Tom said, the realization only hitting him then.

Harry's mouth pressed into a tight, grim line and he pushed himself away from Tom. He hoisted himself onto his feet with great difficulty to stagger over to the desk in the corner.

“Are you afraid?” Tom asked in a hushed tone.

Harry did not answer and doubled over again as another cough wracked through him. His hands gripped the edge of the wood with white knuckles. He looked at Tom and asked, “Are you?” His eyes gleamed in the dark of the room but they were also soft. Sad.

Tom’s heart muscle beat strongly for some reason. He did not feel good.

Harry took his silence for an answer and turned away to shuffle over to the bed, more dejected than before. “Of course you’re not,” Harry said, and hauled himself onto the cushions. “I’ll wager you don’t even know what fear feels like.” 

Tom would think the appropriate response to this would be hurt or anger, but Harry looked so weak and small right then. His human body broken and decaying.  
Tom’s hands fisted in the blanket that he covered Harry with. Something ugly gripped him, rendering him immobile for half a second. There must be a malfunction. He would have to run self-diagnostics tomorrow.

“Goodnight, Harry.”

But Harry had already drifted off to sleep.

* * *

No matter what the time of day, London was a bustling and nocturnal world of activity. A world so much bigger than either Harry or Tom. The distant screech and hiss of trains in the underground could be heard outside the station. People jostled and swarmed around Harry on their way to whatever it was they had to do. He could smell the fried food and cloying exhaust fumes of cars and busses on the roads. The wind, tepid and smothering, gusted out from the entrance of the station.

This was it. Another few steps and Harry would be zooming away from all this, his friends, his life – And for a possibly very, very long time.

“Shall we go now, Harry?” Tom said beside him.

All of a sudden Harry was struck with a gripping panic. He was dying. He would never see Ron or Hermione again, because Tom would never let him.

Harry turned to the android and did not need to say anything. Tom placed his hand on the small of his back in a gesture to push him along. They made their way down the stairs and the hollow push and pull of air through tunnels made Harry’s heart beat faster. He was not ready. This was not how he had imagined his final days to go.

A desperate and despairing feeling choked him then; He began coughing again and surreptitiously wiped the blood away on his sleeve.

As they waited on the platform, Harry looked at the people around him. So oblivious and ignorant. Would any of them help him if he asked? Probably not. Tom would hurt them before they could even try.

Two lights shone in the distance and rushed down the dark tunnels. When it neared the platform, people began to crowd around the doors. They slid open with a hiss and Harry melted into the tide of people that flowed out.

Then he made a break for it.

Harry ran faster than he had ever done in his life before. He ran until his lungs burned and the tang of blood was on his tongue.

Fuck it. He was dying and he wanted his friends’ faces to be the last thing he saw before he kicked it. Not some plastic imitation of something half-way human.

“Harry!”

Oh, God.  

Harry pushed harder until he finally saw the light of day signaling the exit. He heaved himself up the stairs and out into the open metropolis of people, buildings, cars and busses. They had never looked so glorious. Harry’s feet pounded along the street until he came to the stoplights and turned back to see the flash of pristine grey clothing. The glimpse of smooth midnight hair, perfectly styled. Glass eyes that bore into his own as Tom tore after him like the machine that he was.  

And then there was a flash of emotion.

Terror. Shock. Despair.

The beautiful mouth formed words that sounded like –

“ _Harry!_ ”

The shrill blare of a horn pierced the air and the ground was knocked out from under Harry’s feet.

Suddenly he was flying.

For a moment Tom’s figure rotated until he and the rest of the world were upside-down. The pavement rushed toward him and he heard shouting.

His vision was now taken up by a bright grey sky.

So typical, Harry thought, for an English day.

“ ** _NO!_** ”

* * *

Week Six                                                                                                                          

Bright white light burned his vision. It was a stark contrast from the complete pitch blackness he had experienced only a moment before. Had it been hours? Days?

Splitting pain shot through Harry when he tried to move and he screamed.

A shadow passed over him and blocked the bright light. A soft pressure of a finger ran across his cheek and Harry blinked at the blurry image of someone standing over him.

“Hello, Harry.”

Harry’s heart froze.

“Welcome back.”

Despite the pain, Harry pushed himself up to find he was on a cold metal table. Tom stood before him, clothes once more stained with layers of blood and what looked like oil. His normally immaculate hair was disheveled and unwashed.

“You shouldn’t have tried to run away like that, Harry.”

“Where am I?” Harry’s voice rasped.

Blue glass-marble eyes gazed at him with wonder. “In the place where I was created, of course.”

Harry whipped his head around and saw that Tom was right. They were in one of the abandoned rooms of The Facility. Equipment was strewn everywhere along with a lot of… blood.

“What have you done? What am I doing here?” Harry said with rising panic when Tom rushed forward to crash his lips against his in a bruising kiss.

Repelled, Harry tried to push him away but Tom held onto him, murmuring in between his kisses. "You're okay now, Harry, you're alive..."

With a cry, Harry gave another push and was surprised when Tom actually stumbled back. Harry's eyes blazed and he reached for Tom - to kill him or make sure this was not a dream. That he was not actually dead and living through hell. But he aborted the motion when his eyes caught on something –

His… hand.

His whole arm. It was encased in metal and wire. No… it _was_ metal and wire.

“What the fuck have you done to me?!” Harry yelled in horror.

“I made you better,” Tom said.

“You – You’ve turned me into a machine!”

“You are not a full android. Only the… damaged parts have been improved.”

Harry’s breath shortened, his vision tunneling. All he could see was Tom giving him that placid smile again. Harry lashed out with surprising strength and managed to strike the android hard across the face. Tom’s head snapped to the right before he slowly faced Harry again. A trail of black liquid like oil oozed from the cut on his cheek but he did not seem to mind in the slightest.

“I have saved us once again, Harry,” Tom said. “You should be thankful.”

* * *

Hours later they found themselves on the platform for the second time that week. Tom was once more spotless and clean while Harry covered himself in clothing to hide his... abnormalities. Tom promised him they would find skin to cover his limbs if he wanted. Harry wondered if he was supposed to find comfort in that.

The android squeezed Harry's hand tightly as they boarded the train this time. Harry hated that he could still feel it though his arm was no longer flesh and bone.

Tom led them to the end of the carriage and sat in the corner while Harry took the seat opposite him. From the corner of his eye he saw a passenger watching the news on their tablet. Something about a car crash in London a few days before. Body identified as some nobody security guard who had already been knocking on death’s door.  

Harry’s heart clenched at the thought of his friends finding out that way. Tom said it would be better because they would not have to worry.

But what does a robot understand of worry or fear of the unknown.

The train started with a jolt and they hurtled along through pitch black tunnels to suddenly burst out into the open landscape of London. A half-hour in and it slowly changed to the open English countryside.

Harry watched it blur past with disinterest. From the reflection of the window, he could see Tom looking at him and he turned to face the android.

Harry noted how Tom still sat so stiff and mechanical. He gazed at Harry with that irritatingly passive face and empty blue eyes. Except there was a hint of something sinister and possessive in them this time. Harry swore that the ghost of a smirk lingered on those perfect lips.

The thought struck him again – How he was stuck with this thing, for better or worse, and for who-knows-how long. Possibly until the end of time. When their rusted parts and synthetic organs could no longer be replaced and the world was nothing but fire and ash around them. Harry had a feeling Tom would continue to haunt him through the afterlife as well.

“You asked me a question a week ago. Do you remember it?”

Harry startled at the question and focused on Tom again. “No.”

“I believe I might have an answer now,” Tom informed him. Harry raised his brow though he could not be more disinterested in what the robot had to say. He was too busy contemplating his eternity in hell when Tom continued. “It’s when you don't want the person you care about to die, and the thought of how it will be when that person is no longer around.”

Harry stared, uncomprehending, and Tom stared back.

“Is that not true?” 

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked.

“Your inevitable death,” Tom replied. “I came to the conclusion I didn’t want to think about how it will be… afterwards.”

Realization slowly crept through Harry and he stilled. His throat felt dry all of a sudden and his mouth tried to form words but he was speechless.

“Is that not fear?” Tom said.

Harry still could not answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ([♪♫](http://vanillaghost.tumblr.com/post/149655919029))


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